


sea of smiles

by AStrangeDaze (TerraRising)



Series: spaces between the universe [2]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Gen, M/M, mild Identity Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 19:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14817342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraRising/pseuds/AStrangeDaze
Summary: For the record, Seongwoo only came here for the killer hors d'oeuvres.(Recommended to start from part 1 of the series to avoid confusion)





	sea of smiles

“I still think this is stupid,” Seongwoo gripes, fiddling with the bit of white crushed velvet and lace Doyeon had forced into his hand the moment they got into the cab, “It’s not like we all don’t know each other, what’s a mask that only covers my eyes even going to hide? And if I meet someone new, since this _is_ supposed to be a networking opportunity, how am I going to recognize them in an elevator or whatever the next time we run into each other if the masks _do_ work? Which they don’t, by the way, all they do is make my face itch.”

 

“Oh quit whining already. The committee decided on a theme just like they do every year, and it’s mandatory for everyone to at least _try_ and follow the theme. All you have to do is put a mask on for a while, no one’s expecting you to keep it on the whole time.”

 

Doyeon rolls her eyes and crosses her legs the other way around, the long slit up the side of her dress that stops mid-thigh reveals miles of smooth skin and Seongwoo shamelessly points at it, “You’re going to end up with at least two guys trying to cop a feel under the guise of ‘tripping’ and being too drunk, you know that right?”

 

“That’s what you’re here for, aren’t you?” she snarks back with a raised eyebrow, tossing her immaculately curled hair over a slim shoulder, “To keep those handsy executives off me.”

 

“Is that all I’m here for? Security duty?”

 

“I don’t know, are you good for anything else? You’re terrible company right now, you’ve been grouchy all month,” Doyeon points out, “Come on, it’s a Christmas party. We’re going to a fancy hotel, the food is free and it’s open bar. Smile a little!”

 

“What’s the point of an open bar when I can’t even get drunk?”

 

“Why not?”

 

“It’s still a work event, I’m not going to make a complete fool out of myself in front of my colleagues no matter how comfortable they are making complete fools out of themselves in front of me. Besides, if I’m drunk, who's going to defend your honour and fend off those handsy executives?”

 

“Okay fine,” Doyeon concedes, “But there’s going to be a dessert buffet, go gorge yourself on that then.”

 

“And look even fatter than I do now?” Seongwoo continues to complain, pulling at the pristine white of his suit jacket, “I told you white doesn’t look flattering on me, why couldn’t you just let me wear black?”

 

She scoffs, “Because you’re my date for the night and I wanted to match; black tuxes are so boring, you look much better in the white.”

 

“You mean _you_ look great in white.”

 

“Why yes I do, thank you for noticing,” Doyeon flashes him a practised, coy smile over her shoulder, fluttering her eyelashes at him dramatically before bursting into laughter.

 

It’s just enough to drag a smile out of Seongwoo as well and she leans over to nudge his shoulder, “Come on, enjoy yourself a little. Where’s that holiday spirit?”

 

“I never had any,” he quips, pulling the mask over his eyes as the cab pulls up to the front of the hotel, “But I guess for you, I could try.”

 

He gets out his wallet and slips enough money to cover the journey and a generous tip to the driver before getting out first so he can hold a hand out to keep Doyeon steady as she steps out in her ridiculous six inch Louboutins. Just the motion of her getting up and out of the car ends up making the slit of her dress ride up even more, shimmering white fabric parting to show off Doyeon’s long legs and Seongwoo’s scowls, glaring at five people who are leering shamelessly.

 

“You are not making this body guarding thing easy for me,” he mutters.

 

Doyeon tucks her hand into the crook of Seongwoo’s arm and pays the perverts no mind, strutting down the red carpeting leading into the lobby with all the grace of a runway model even though Seongwoo knows she had to practise walking in those heels for weeks before she stopped stumbling everywhere and that she nearly broke her ankle doing it. “If it was easy, I wouldn’t need a bodyguard,” she hisses, “You keep the guys off me, and I look pretty on your arm and keep those nice ladies looking to net a husband away from you. That was the deal.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he grouses, “And where’s _your_ mask?”

 

Doyeon scoffs, “A mask? I spent an hour doing my make-up and you want me to put on a mask? Pass.”

 

“Then why do I have to wear one?” Seongwoo whines.

 

“Because then at least one of us is sticking to the theme,” she hisses back while smiling at the guyby the door of the ballroom who reaches out to collect their tickets, “Now come on! Let’s find the hors d'oeuvres guy, I’m starving.”

 

“Okay, _now_ you’re talking.”

 

* * *

 

 

They’ve been mingling for around half an hour when Seongwoo starts to feel his head throbbing, that pulsing that builds in his temples and threatens to overtake his entire skull warns him of an incoming migraine and he grimaces.

 

Maybe it’s all the noise or just too much of an eager crowd swarming, a sea of fake smiles greeting him at every turn, but either way, he’s going to suffer if he doesn’t manage to curb this before it builds beyond what his painkillers can control. With a sigh, he turns and flags down one of the many masked waiters, asking for a glass of water and handing over his glass of champagne with a mournful stare. Doyeon glances at him, sympathy written over her face as she follows him to a less populated corner of the room, “Headaches again? You have your meds with you right?”

 

“Yeah,” Seongwoo grumbles.

 

“Are you sure you don’t need to see your doctor about this?” she presses like she has for the past twenty times she caught Seongwoo popping pills to keep his migraines at bay, “It’s getting worse, you’ve taken so many pills lately……”

 

“I’m fine,” Seongwoo insists, nodding at the waiter who returns with his water, digging his pills out of his pocket, “I’ll have to see them when my prescription is finished anyways, don’t worry about it.”

 

“I’m serious though,” Doyeon puts a hand on his arm, making him pause as he was about to pop the pill in his mouth, “You used to get these migraines maybe once every month or two. Now I see you taking a pill at least twice a week. You need to get this checked out.”

 

Seongwoo eases his arm out of her grasp and takes the pill quickly, taking a swig of the water and swallowing with practised ease, “Okay, I’ll call and make an appointment for the next time I’m off.”

 

“Good,” she nods decisively, “Now, more hors d'oeuvres?”

 

“Please,” he rips the mask off his face, not needing another thing to make things worse, and joins her in hunting down the closest waiter circulating their area.

 

All the poor waiters have been given a plain black plastic mask to wear and Seongwoo is surprised none of them have tripped yet, the range of vision on those things can’t be great and the nose piece looks like it either digs in uncomfortably or cuts off breathing. The closest waiter to them is a tall man, broad shoulders looking cramped in a cheap suit at least a size too small, the mask strapped to his face mussing up the styling of ash blonde hair. He pauses when Doyeon and Seongwoo approach him, holding his tray of biscuits with artfully arranged smoked salmon out to them obligingly.

 

Seongwoo takes one and thanks the waiter who is still frozen there with a smile, humming in delight when the taste of the sun-dried tomato in the spread bursts against his tongue. Much better than those fancy little toast things with the bland quail eggs he had earlier.

 

“Another?” the waiter asks, voice a little hoarse and Seongowo laughs, snagging two and popping one into his mouth right away.

 

“Thanks, I’ll take more than just one if you don’t mind,” he laughs, “I must look like a glutton.”

 

The waiter shrugs, a funny motion as the seams of his suit jacket strains against his muscles, “They’re tiny, no one will blame you for needing more than one. And you’re the most polite glutton I’ve met all evening.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Last guy swept up half my tray and then yelled at me for still being in his way,” the waiter discloses drily, dropping his voice lower to avoid being overheard.

 

Seongwoo winces in sympathy, “Ouch, that sucks. I hope you don’t run into him again tonight.”

 

“Same, thank you, for you know…being nice,” the waiter shifts to offer his goods to a passing couple before turning back to glance at Seongwoo, bright eyes visible even through that cheap mask.

 

“Maybe you should just stick beside me for the rest of the night,” Seongwoo jokes.

 

The waiter nods to him with a quirk to his lip, “Maybe I will, maybe I will.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

As fate would arrange for things, he runs into the waiter again when it’s officially dinner time.

 

He serves their table with a slightly more plastic smile and then Seongwoo is too busy trying to fend off the man on Doyeon’s other side who keeps trying to shift his chair closer to her to pay much attention to their waiter. Seongwoo still makes sure to catch his eye and say thank you every time he’s served, but otherwise, he’s stuck ignoring how badly his head is starting to heart and aggressively engaging the leering man in conversation todistract him from trying to look down Doyeon’s dress.

 

Dinner itself is delicious; that’s one good thing about having their gala at a five-star hotel - if nothing else, the quality of the food never disappoints and they’re getting a full four courses. Seongwoo just wishes he could appreciate it a bit more, but it’s hard to savour a perfectly cooked filet mignon when his skull feels like it’s threatening to vibrate out of his head. Doyeon shoots him worried looks every time his eyes so much as twitches and he’s thankful when dessert finally wraps up.

 

He lasts a couple of dances before the music and strobe lights are just too much, turning to politely excuse himself and head to the washroom though he has to almost scream to be heard over the bass. Doyeon waves him off when he stops to ask if she’ll be alright alone for a moment, linking arms with a short girl he vaguely recalls to be part of marketing and telling him to go take care of himself first.

 

Ducking into the washroom, he heaves a sigh of relief when the door swings shut and muffles the music for the moment.

 

Trudging over to the sink, he figures it wouldn’t hurt to wash his face, splashing water unto his cheeks. It’s soothing, the feeling of cool water caressing his skin, though he’d kill for a compress for his temples right now. Feeling around blindly, he curses himself for not taking note of where the napkins were located before he washed his face when suddenly a presence looms behind him and then a thick napkin is pressed into his hand.

 

Drying his face quickly, he looks up to see the waiter from before standing there, fidgeting nervously.

 

“Thanks,” he says, “Break time?”

 

“No,” here in the relative quiet of the washroom playing its own mix of bland elevator music, the waiter’s voice sounds a bit familiar, “Your girlfriend was worried and asked if I could check on you.”

 

Seongwoo laughs, “Don’t let her hear you calling her my girlfriend, or she’ll throw a fit about why people always have to assume people of opposite genders are in a relationship and can’t simply be friends.”

 

“O-oh! Sorry for assuming.”

 

Seongwoo waves him off, blotting the last of the water from his temple delicately, “It’s fine. And I’m alright, thanks for checking on me, but you can tell her highness not to worry.”

 

“Are you sure?” Seongwoo is certain the other man is frowning at him through that mask, “You’ve been wincing all night. Do you need me to call you a cab? I’m sure your, uh, friend would understand if you had to leave early.”

 

“Naw, it’s fine,” Seongwoo rolls his eyes, starting to get annoyed with how everyone kept fussing over him; really, they were just migraines!

 

The waiter continues to hover as Seongwoo soaks the napkin in cold water and then holds it to his forehead with a contented sigh. The waiter had the right body type to look great in a suit and it was almost a shame he was wearing an obviously ill-fitting suit.Looking at their reflection in the mirror, they cut a pretty striking figure together, white against black, and Seongwoo chuckles to himself.

 

“Hmm?” his companion makes an inquisitive sound.

 

“Nothing,” he snickers, “It’s just, look at us. Black and white would have looked just as good together but Doyeon still made me wear white with her.”

 

He picks at the fabric of the one white suit he owns as the waiter stares at him like he’s said the oddest thing, warm eyes just barely visible through the mask, and sighs, “Ah, I really do like wearing black more. Prince Charming-esque colours aren’t for me, you know?”

 

“I think you look very dashing tonight,” the waiter admits and Seongwoo feels his cheeks heat up a little at the earnest compliment, though there’s something niggling at the backof his mind that he can’t quite place, “The most handsome prince at the ball.”

 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, sighing, wanting to lean against something solid but not wanting to touch the washroom walls no matter how nice they were.

 

As if sensing his intent, the waiter takes his arm slowly, hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch a guest, pulling him towards the exit of the washroom. “Come on, you can take a breather in the break room if you want? Then you can sit down, I’ll dim the lights for you.”

 

“You’re an angel,” Seongwoo groans dramatically, letting himself be led, wincing when the full volume of the music hits him again as soon as they exit the washroom.

 

To his surprise, Doyeon is waiting nearby and she hurries over, frowning. “Seongwoo-ah, just go home,” she says, pursing her lips, “You look like death warmed over, seriously, go home and rest. Can you call him a cab?”

 

“I have it on good authority that I’m the most handsome person here,” Seongwoo jokes weakly, gesturing at the waiter accompanying him.

 

Doyeon looks less than impressed, turning her attention to his companion again and waiting for his answer. “Yes, of course ma’am, I’ll accompany him to a place where he can rest in the meantime,” the formal response coming out from the waiter’s lips surprises Seongwoo given how casually they’ve been chatting since the beginning, “Please enjoy the rest of your evening.”

 

“Thank you,” she graces him with a smile before turning her gaze back to Seongwoo, jabbing a finger in his direction, “Text me when you’re home or I’m breaking down your door tomorrow to make sure you didn’t die drowning in your toilet bowl.”

 

“Yeah yeah, and you’d better keep the drinking to a minimum, we don’t want you dancing on a table like that time at the karaoke bar.”

 

Doyeon makes a cutting motion with her hand at him at the unwanted reminder of the first time he saw her get _really_ wasted and he laughs, instantly regretting it because the vibrations only hurt his head. His waiter friend escorts him from the noisy hall, stopping only to whisper something to a coworker and grabbing a key before they’re on their way. The break area they end up in is nicely furnished and Seongwoo ends up laying down on a couch, lights dimmed, with the waiter’s suit jacket draped over his eyes. Underneath the fumes from the kitchen caught in the fabric, it smells like his cologne and Seongwoo wonders if it would be really creepy to ask the name of the scent the other man wears.

 

He doesn’t know how many minutes pass before there’s a knock on the door and his companion goes to answer, Seongwoo straining to hear their conversation because he has nothing better to do but eavesdrop.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Daniel, there’s a couple of guys looking for you but they don’t look very friendly,” the stranger with the deep voice says, “I just thought I’d give you a heads up if you wanted to slip out back……are you in some kind of trouble, man?”

 

Seongwoo’s waiter friend, now revealed to be named Daniel, curses, “Thanks for letting me know, Tae. I’m going to go, tell hyung that we’re even after this shift, yeah?”

 

“Will do, I’ll stall them for you. Uh, do you want me to get your friend here to his cab?”

 

“No, it’s okay, I’ll take him outside now, the cab should be here. Thanks again Tae, I owe you one.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, just get out of here. You’re lucky they’re hesitant to cause a ruckus at a five-star hotel.”

 

The door closes again and ‘Tae’ hurries away, Seongwoo is sitting up sluggishly even as Daniel comes back to his side, “We leaving?”

 

“Yeah,” he laughs a little sheepishly, fingers coming up to scratch at his cheek in an aborted movement when it comes into contact with the mask still affixed to his face, “Sorry you had to witness that, you okay to stand?”

 

“Mmhmm,” Seongwoo stands up slowly and then hands the suit jacket back to his companion, gesturing at the door, “Lead the way, good sir.”

 

They hurry through the doors, moving as fast as Seongwoo is able to, Daniel leading them down winding corridors in the service section of the building. Just as they’re about to reach the back door, the waiter freezes and curses under his breath, ducking behind a rack of trays and yanking Seongwoo with him.

 

“What?”

 

“There’s two guys down that way,” his companion hisses, “They’re not good news.”

 

“Dude, do you owe them money or something?” Seongwoo whispers back, “Bad debt? What was it, gambling? Women?”

 

“None of the above!”

 

“Just please don’t tell me you’re a criminal.”

 

“I’m not!” Daniel hisses urgently, “Okay, shit, they’re coming, fuck, they can’t see me.”

 

Seongwoo blinks, trying to order his thoughts before something insane strikes him and he turns to his companion as the footsteps draw closer, “Do you trust me?”

 

“Yes,” the answer comes without any hesitation and Seongwoo has no time to think of the implications now.

 

He spins them so that he’s pinning Daniel to the wall and then presses his own body close, covering the other’s form with his own limbs, faces dangerously close but not quite touching, just the barest hair’s breath of space between their lips. Startled brown eyes the colour of the soaked earth after a thunderstorm stares back at him, shocked, “Wha-”

 

“Excuse me for a moment,” Seongwoo murmurs before he kisses him for real just as their assailants pass by.

 

Daniel goes rigid before his hands come up and clutch at the back of Seongwoo’s suit jacket, fisting the fabric between strong fingers even as his lips yields sweetly beneathSeongwoo’s insistent mouth. Seongwoo is careful to keep the contact as chaste as possible even as he pretends to be wildly absorbed in carnal pleasures. The footsteps pause for a half second before someone scoffs and mutters some derogatory homophobic slur and hurrying away. It takes everything in Seongwoo not to react and turn to slug them in the face, focusing instead on obscuring as much of Daniel’s face with his own.

 

He pulls aways when the footsteps are far enough away, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and tugging on his frozen companion, “Come on, this way to the exit right?”

 

“Y-yeah,” Daniel stammers, blushing hard enough that his mask does nothing to hide it, “w-what was that?”

 

“Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable so they don’t look as closely,” Seongwoo explains, “Doubly so when it’s two men and the people in question are homophobic. Sorry I kissed you without permission.”

 

“R-right, and how did you know that?”

 

Seongwoo laughs, throwing Daniel an impish grin over his shoulder as they burst through the back door, street lamps the only light illuminating them now, “Saw it in a movie somewhere.”

 

His companion’s mask is eschew and Seongwoo reaches out to pull it off. “You don’t need that anymore, that can’t be…..comfortable.”

 

His fingers go slack and the flimsy plastic clatters to the floor noisily. Under the orange-tinge of the street lamps, Seongwoo feels his mind stutter to a forceful halt as Euigeon’s face stares back at him.

 

“What? _Euigeon?!_ ”

 

“I, I can explain!”

 

“Explain? You disappeared! I know we weren’t exactly friends but I was worried!” Seongwoo’s find himself shouting before he can help it, migraine back with a vengeance and making him all the more irritable, “Was it those guys? Did you disappear because of them?”

 

“Look, I’ll tell you everything, we just need to-”

 

The door behind them swings open and Daniel swears, grabbing Seongwoo’s arm and then effortlessly hefts him over his shoulder, “Run!”

 

“Freeze, you’re under arrest!”

 

Seongwoo gapes as Daniel clears the railing of the fire escape they were on in one jump, landing on his feet and taking off in a run as if it was nothing to jump from that height and run with a grown man slung over his shoulders. The blood rushing to his head has him biting back a moan as the pain pulses to the beat of his heart; this was not how he had expected to spend his night.

 

He takes it back though, those masks are pretty damn good at hiding identities. Either that, or Seongwoo is just really bad at this.

 

Bouncing up and down Train Guy’s (Euigeon’s? Daniel’s?) broad shoulders like a sack of potatoes as people shout at them to stop, he sighs. Well, he’s really bad at _something._


End file.
